Final Destination
by Ally5
Summary: Eugene's search for happiness in life


Title: Final destination  
  
Author's note: It's very short, and I'm not sure where the idea came from, it was just a story that my mind wanted to write and my fingers complied and typed it. It's about Eugene.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, but the story is. Oh and the name has nothing to do with the movie of the same name, it just seemed fitting.  
  
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Eugene watched as the door was slammed in his face. He heard the thud as though it were somehow more distant than reality would have it. His body reacted to the noise almost in slow motion. His nerves jumped in his muscles even though he knew that the sound was coming, and he watched himself as he walked away from the scene. And then he woke up. Sweating. Hot. Out of breath. He felt as though he were about to have a heart attack and swallowed as the panic set in, its cold fingers scratching his skin like talons. He threw off the covers and sat up, waiting for the breaths to come more easily. The machine gun that was his heart soon fired less emphatically and his breath finally returned. The air was frigid and he soon became cold, pulling the blankets close. Lying back down, he replayed the dream. The dream that was his conscience. Sighing, he sat up again and dressed. They were clothes that he simply pulled at random from his drawers. He pulled his coat close to his body and faced the wind and snow on the cold December night.  
  
As he walked, snow swirled around him concealing him in a cloud, separating him from the harsh reality of the world. Then the wind died and the snow dropped like a curtain. He was with the world again. Thoughts passed through his mind. They were consequences of being awake and he let them journey through as though he were simply a substation, but not their final destination. They whispered their secrets as they flew by and he tried to catch them as they passed, but they were too quick. Settling on a park bench, he considered his life, practicing the words that had for so long sat on his tongue, begging to be released. Words that died when he saw the people that he held so dear. But it was time to put the haunting dream to rest, time to allow his inner self-reveal its contempt for the world. Contempt for himself.  
  
He could see them now. Bobby and Lindsay. Almost impossible not to mention one without the other these days. Bobby who had always been the same. Hard on the outside, and if you cracked through that tough exterior, you would find a softness. But only one person had penetrated that cover and lived to tell the story. Lindsay. Her early innocence and quest for what is right that had been corrupted by their daily contact with all that is despicable. Ellenor. The ferocity and passion for her work concealed her innermost desire to find respect. Rebecca. There seemed to have always been a Rebecca to Windex his view of the world. Jimmy. His wacky interpretation always caused him to smile. And Lucy. She was the string that held them all together. The smile awoke the nerves in his face and they screamed in the cold. He obeyed their orders and the smile was carried away by the crisp winter wind.  
  
With these people in mind, Eugene stood and walked the rest of the way to that place where he pulled on a costume and became another person. A person that found refuge under the faÃ§ade of strength. The key opened the door and the elevator opened in front of him, almost willing him to enter. The thoughts that once passed freely through his brain slowed as if waterlogged and became still. They allowed close examination and he knew what he had to do.  
  
The office was dark. The cold night had drawn everybody home and he was left alone, carrying out the nightly vigil that had become so familiar to him. His chair embraced him like an old and dear friend, and he sat for a long time, contemplating the night ahead. Planning. His hand was drawn to the pen as if by some force. The ghost of the Christmas past. He smiled to himself, his smile becoming a laugh that startled the air in the quiet office. Laughter was almost unheard of between these walls. His laughter wilted and he concentrated on the task. The words came from the heart and he begged and pleaded with the people he so respected to understand his decision. He knew that they would. They understood more than anyone else the pain that his work inflicted unmercifully upon him. He sealed the envelope and placed it carefully in Lucy's desk.  
  
With that effort completed, he sat down again and breathed a sigh of relief. That was perhaps the hardest of all his tasks for the night. It was a long time before he allowed himself to stand and begin the other tasks. Tasks that he dreaded. The box was hard to reach. It had sat upon the filing cabinet for so long that cobwebs almost completely concealed it. Dust particles leapt into the air, liberated by the movement and Eugene coughed as they entered his lungs, expelling them before they could settle there for another eternity. His hands grasped the files carefully at first, but more and more eagerly until his hands seemed to blur in front of him. These were files that he despised. Files that had become a part of who he was until he could stand it no longer. He remembered each case as he discarded the file. The drug dealers, the rapists, the murderers. He threw them all into the box eagerly, waiting for his body to rid itself of their filth. Names poured from his mouth like fleas abandoning a dead body. He tasted the bitterness of each name on his tongue and spat them out with growing hatred.  
  
He reached the last file and paused. It was his final case. The case that had caused him the most abhorrence for his work. It was not the worst case that he had come across. He had represented worse criminals in his life. Eugene had been metaphorically waiting on death row for a long time and the case had been the order for his death. There could be no appeals now, only goodbyes. He threw the file into the box and with finality, closed the lid. He was out of breath. His face sweated as though it were summer. With no sympathy for his body, he dragged the box into the main office. He placed the envelope on top of it and went back to his cell.  
  
The room suddenly felt lighter. Gone was the weight of his conscience. He looked outside and saw the light begin to filter though the falling snow. The cheerless light of winter contrasted starkly with his newfound joy. He felt relieved that his tasks were almost completed. He slid the key into the lock for the last time and whispered goodbye. He turned away and resisted the urge to look back. The elevator remained stubbornly closed until finally the doors opened, allowing him refuge from the resentful stare of the office. He left the building as though being reborn. With childish wonder, he took in the dawn of the day. Accepting the gift that it bestowed upon him. But he tore himself away from the wonderment and he retraced his steps back to his home. People were beginning to wake. Their mouths opened, "Merry Christmas." He read the lips but heard no sound. He nodded his reply, "Merry Christmas." They smiled and allowed him to continue on his way. His home welcomed his return and he inflicted upon it the same treatment that the office had received. Files were discarded without second thought. Clothes were hurriedly packed and appliances stored. The space soon opened up and all that was left was a shell of an apartment. The faded walls containing stories to whisper to its new occupants. Stories of late nights and early mornings, of broken sleep and bad dreams. Stories of sadness and despair with only a stain of satisfaction and hope.  
  
A hurried phone call. The flurry of final packing. The slam of the truck door. A wave to the removalists. And he was gone.  
  
* * *  
  
They entered the office so caught up in the excitement of the holiday season that they at first walked past the box of secrets. There was a pause. A second take. A worried glance. The handwriting was familiar to both and with a quick sweeping look around him, he moved to Eugene's office. The door swung open silently, revealing a room empty of anything important to their friend. Eugene was gone.  
  
She opened the letter, addressed "Friends". And after reading it, let her hand fall to her side. His questioning eyes pierced her, "What?" they asked. She smiled softly. She had sensed that Eugene had been on his way for a long time now. And now he was gone and she was happy for him. Bobby walked swiftly to her side and pried the page from her grasp. She let it go and watched his face turn from worry to pride. Tears formed in both their eyes and they stared at each other, willing the other to talk first. He reached for the phone and dialled a number that had been as familiar to him as his own. He listened to the tone, imagining it echoing in the empty apartment. He hung up and shrugged his shoulders, "He's gone." She took the phone from his hand and called the others, who answered in varying degrees of shock and amazement. Their friend had been liberated from the chains that had held him prisoner for so long. Promises. Hopes. Dreams. All released. To be explored in his new world.  
  
Bobby took her hand and led her out of the office. They looked down the road as if they were watching him leave and mentally bid farewell.  
  
* * *  
  
Eugene drove into the small town and stopped outside a colonial house. He smiled at it and watched as the removalists carried his furniture into its depths. The school was down the road. The principal lived next door. She stepped onto the front porch and greeted him. She led him to the school and pointed out his class. He looked inside happily. His new world welcomed him lovingly. It bathed him in its innocence and washed away all incriminating signs of deceit and unhappiness. This was the world that had beckoned him in his sleep. The door had slammed on his old life and he was allowed to live again.  
  
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End file.
